


But Who Will Win?

by adrift_me



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, Hurt, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 07:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19807921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me
Summary: “You make a living by making a trace of dead behind you. And survival is questionable, for is it living if you have to survive?”“An ironic question from someone like you,” Teague laughs, breathing in deep, watching as the Outsider’s calm cold face moves away from him.A conversation in the Void, too many truths and one unexpected searing kiss.





	But Who Will Win?

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some more Teague Martin/Outsider, and so I did! I hope you like it :)
> 
> [Come chat with me on tumblr or send me prompts :)](https://a-driftamongopenstars.tumblr.com/)

The Overseer quarters look different in the Void. To a grotesque degree different, with its walls crumbled and fallen as they eventually would, and Overseers’ bodies stuck in frozen poses, faceless as they all have their horrible grinning masks on.

Teague doesn’t seeing the place that way when he wakes up in the Void, but such is the nature of this place and there is little he can do but get up from his bed and walk out of the ruin.

Outside is dark and calm, tinted with pleasant beige. The wind is not present, and neither is the god of this place, or so it would seem. Teague knows that the Outsider is watching him, curious in his own ways, yearning for entertainment.

But Teague is tired and not in the mood to give it. And so he walks up a slide towards another rocky ledge, then another, then across the divide, using the power of the mark. The surge of power sends a rush of adrenaline through his body, and he almost smiles at the rare sensation. After all, what use does he have from this ability - his use lies with deceit and backstabbing. And that he finds quite an appropriate a tool.

“Teague Martin,” the Outsider drawls his name instead of a welcome every time they meet.

“What do you want of me today?” Martin asks indifferently, fixing the gloves up to his wrists, avoiding the piercing black gaze. He hates it and he loves it, because it makes him feel, and that is not something that happens often. He would rather it didn’t happen at all, but the stupid body has its ways of reacting to a charming smile and a flirtatious word.

“A conversation, as is always. You seem to be a new man every day, Teague. Yesterday it was, what, an independent journalist, and now you are an Overseer. How does that mask fit?”

“Better than others.”

“And is it comfortable to wear several masks at once?” the Outsider asks, turning his gaze at Teague. Those eyes need no answer, because they know already, and this is just a challenge to make Teague’s blood boil. Maybe, he is a masochist for wanting to be challenged, called out, appreciated in this strange way by someone who shows awfully little interest in helping people.

But then, why should he.

“The Isles are not simple. Anyone who chooses to be real here is doomed to failure. And those who adapt will survive. I intend to make my living that way,” Teague explains, turning on his feet and looking around, as the Outsider disappears and reappears in front of him. His finger slides softly over Teague’s cheek, and the touch couldn’t be more searing.

“You make a living by making a trace of dead behind you. And survival is questionable, for is it living if you have to survive?”

“An ironic question from someone like you,” Teague laughs, breathing in deep, watching as the Outsider’s calm cold face moves away from him.

“You are bold,” he replies in a calm demeanor. “One of the reasons I marked you, Teague. I wanted to watch you squirm in the circumstance like the snake you are. Unsurprisingly, you succeed. But doesn’t it gnaw at your innards, that your whole self is just a set of masks, and the real you will never be revealed, will never revel in glory of clever plans, of wit? Doesn’t it torture you?”

Teague looks at him, and feels blood rush to his cheeks in anger and embarrassment. Somehow the Outsider yanks at the most painful strings in his soul without reading a single thought. He knows more than he should, he knows more than any other person, it is true.

As they watch each other, less and less distance is left between them, and Teague doesn’t quite understand what drives him to do it, maybe because he wanted to for a while, or maybe because it would be easier to shut the bastard up, but he takes him by the fronts and pulls in a searing kiss. With teeth and with need, with frenzied want. And the Outsider leaves him no competition, replying just as fervently. They battle each other for the lead of the kiss, and Teague feels like he wants to reach the mind of the god and rip out all thoughts and memory of himself, while the Outsider reaches deeper into Teague’s own soul to devour even more of those thoughts and memories.

But who, oh who will win?


End file.
